“Ms. Cronin, I think the academy should split the grading into two parts: half from the year-end exam and half from regular performance. That way, students will be more engaged in class and take their assignments seriously, instead of just cramming at the last minute.”

“That’s an interesting idea. But our academy has always based evaluations on the final comprehensive exam. I know it might seem tough for students who don’t do well under pressure, but handling high-stakes situations is exactly what we want to train them for. In the end, we’re preparing top-tier graduates—people who can join the Light Mage Alliance or even take part in demon hunts.”

Loewen lowered his gaze, realizing that he wouldn't be able to persuade the dean on this point. However, he was not one to give up easily. If Plan A failed, then it was time for Plan B.

"Then, Ms. Cronin, may I ask—if a student excels in a particular subject despite struggling in others, could they apply for additional points?"

Ms. Cronin chuckled. Struggles in certain subjects? Was this child referring to herself?

Seeing she hesitate, Loewen pressed further. "There are all kinds of talent in the world. Everyone’s got their own strengths and weaknesses, and knowing how to play to your strengths while working on your weaknesses is a skill too. If students had the chance to really show what they’re good at, it’d lead to more diversified development. That’s just how I see it—what do you think, Ms. Cronin?"

"Diversified development?" The dean mulled over the phrase, rolling it around in her mind. "...That’s interesting."

Loewen’s eyes lit up.

Seeing those bright, eager eyes fixed upon her, the dean decided not to dampen the enthusiasm any further. She smiled kindly and offered a sliver of hope. "I’ll think about your suggestion for extra points. However, the condition is that the student must show truly outstanding academic achievements; otherwise, it won’t be granted."

"Sure." Loewen nodded humbly, though the slight upward curve of his lips betrayed his delight. His eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement.

"Thank you, Ms. Cronin. I have no further matters to discuss, so I won’t take up more of your time." Loewen stood up.

Felix, who had been sitting quietly, followed suit. He carefully placed his teacup back on the table before straightening up.

Ms. Cronin shifted her gaze to Felix—this student had remained silent since entering the office. What had brought him here?

"And you, young man? Do you have anything to say?"

Felix shook his head, his face guileless and sincere. "I came with her. I’m her best friend."

Loewen immediately turned back and yanked his sleeve forcefully. "Time to go. Stop talking nonsense."

He kept his voice low, but the irritation in his tone was unmistakable.

Ms. Cronin couldn’t help but chuckle.

Felix took a few steps forward but suddenly turned back, hesitating as he looked at the dean with uncertainty.

"Is there something else?" she asked patiently.

"Ms. Cronin..." Felix stood still. He shifted on his feet as if summoning his courage. Finally, he spoke up, "Everyone’s talking about a red-eyed devil lurking around the academy, attacking people at night. Is it true?"

He shuddered as he spoke, and clutched his arms tightly as though he were truly terrified. His voice dropped to a nervous murmur. "Ms. Cronin, I’m so scared... I won’t be able to sleep again tonight..."

The dean set down her teacup and walked over. She placed a wrinkled yet reassuring hand on his shoulder, and gave him a gentle pat. "Nonsense. There is no red-eyed devil. You are perfectly safe in the academy. Sleep well tonight."

"So, it’s not real?" Felix blinked, his wide, innocent eyes glistening like clear water. Slowly, a subtle smile crept onto his lips. "That’s good to hear. Thank you, Ms. Cronin."

Since receiving hope for extra points in a single subject from the dean, Loewen had been diving even deeper into his studies of potion-making. Night after night, long after the dormitory had fallen silent, he could still be found hunched over a single flickering lamp, meticulously grinding and mixing ingredients.

A Few Days Later – Potions Class

As the deep chime of the bell echoed through the halls, the assistant instructor, Moqian Dongfang, announced the end of class. He then moved to stand at the doorway of the lab, nodding politely as he bid farewell to the enthusiastic students.

Ever since joining the academy, this young, handsome, and exceedingly gentle-natured assistant instructor had quickly won the hearts of many students.

A group of girls passed by him, hesitating slightly before shyly murmuring, “Goodbye, Professor.” Upon receiving his warm response, their faces turned a deep shade of crimson as they giggled and hurried away.

Qixiu, lagging behind the crowd, shuffled forward, her voice as soft as a feather. “Brother.”

Moqian’s usual gentle smile faded ever so slightly. His expression took on the stern dignity of an elder.

“How are your studies progressing?” he asked in a low voice.

Qixiu bit her lip and lowered her gaze, her eyes fixed on the tips of her shoes. “They’re… fine.”

In truth, they weren’t fine at all, but she was too embarrassed to admit it.

She worked hard—harder than most. But no matter how much effort she put in, she just couldn’t seem to improve.

Moqian studied her for a moment in silence. Then, unexpectedly, he said, “After your classes end this afternoon, wait for me by the fountain. I’ll take you to the faculty dining hall for dinner—help you get some proper nutrition.”

Qixiu looked up at him. Her previous distress vanished in an instant. A bright, sweet smile bloomed across her face as she nodded. “Okay.”

She turned and skipped away, her steps noticeably lighter.

Moqian watched her go, and shook his head with a helpless sigh. “Still too short,” he muttered. “She never seems to grow any taller.”

Just then, a clear voice called out from behind him.

“Professor Dongfang.”

Moqian turned to see two students standing neatly before him—one of whom was his class representative, Loewen Flenqi.

Loewen took a step forward and greeted him cheerfully. “Professor, the lab is a mess. Would you like me to help clean up?”

“No need,” Moqian declined with a polite smile. “Someone will handle it later.” But then, his expression shifted to one of surprise. “Wait… What did you just say?”

Loewen’s lips curled into a knowing smile as he continued speaking in fluid, eloquent Chinese. “It’s your native language, isn’t it? Qixiu told me about it. I actually had a nanny when I was little who looked a lot like you and Qixiu. She taught me how to speak it.”

Moqian’s initial shock gradually faded into understanding. He responded in the same language, his tone tinged with amusement. “That’s quite rare. There aren’t many people from our homeland who have made their way to this continent.”

Loewen’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Professor, where exactly is your homeland?”

Moqian hesitated for a fraction of a second before his gaze turned distant, his thoughts seemingly drifting far away. “Far beyond this land, across the sea… A place in the East, unimaginably distant from here.”

Loewen’s breath hitched slightly. His heartbeat quickened.

—A place far from here… A place to escape to.

If he ever broke free from that wretched family—if he ever had to run—then he would go there.

Moqian’s voice took on a nostalgic note as he continued, “My grandfather grew up in our homeland. When he was ten, he migrated here with the rest of our family, all so he could study magic in this land…”

As he recounted the distant history of his lineage, another presence stood stiffly by Loewen’s side.

Felix’s face had darkened considerably.

He had remained silent throughout the exchange, listening as Loewen and Moqian conversed in a completely foreign tongue—a language he couldn’t even begin to decipher.

It grated on his nerves.

He had never known that Loewen could speak another language. And not just any language—one so bizarre and unfamiliar that it didn’t even sound like anything spoken on this continent.

What were they even talking about?

A creeping unease curled in his chest, like thorny vines tightening around his ribs.

“Miss Flenqi?” he called out softly, and tugged at his sleeve.

But Loewen didn’t acknowledge him at all. He was completely focused on his conversation, not noticing his presence.

Felix’s mood soured even further. His discomfort was evident.

Finally, he reached out and clasped Loewen’s wrist, giving it a squeeze.